


Linger

by FunnyFany



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Alador agrees to committing high treason because he really wants to kiss Lilith, Author knows nothing about how police works, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I built this ship myself and I will sail it, It's about the longing, Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, POV Third Person Limited, an insight into the mind of a Villain in Love, and it's great, and resenting the world for it, it's about resignation, it's about wanting something you feel you can't have, nearly 5k words of two people talking, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27128056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunnyFany/pseuds/FunnyFany
Summary: When Chief Alador Blight receives a mysterious note in his office, he is forced to confront his weaknesses, weight his priorities and choose between denying his heart's desire and helping an old friend in need.
Relationships: Alador Blight/Lilith Clawthorne, RavenBlight
Comments: 15
Kudos: 48





	Linger

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself in the Ao3 side of the fandom. Hello, I’m Babs. I have imprinted on Lilith and will Not Shut Up About Her on my Tumblr. I made a Beast!Lilith comic a while ago that got quite some attention and I’m still reeling at that.
> 
> So... RavenBlight, huh? It's... a long story. Just read the fic.

“Chief Blight, sir?” the young demon called, and Alador blinked at his desk. Interruptions were rare at this time of the day; he was used to getting lost in paperwork until far after dark, when his wife would make a point to remind him that he had a house to return to. In fact, he’d usually only be called to join the fray if his underlings were too incompetent to deal with a criminal. Alador sighed.

“Where to, Rin?” He asked, finally looking at his assistant -- a young night imp, rather tall and bulky for his kin, who was nervously staring at the floor. Alador had a passing thought that their shy demeanor didn’t quite fit them or the precinct.

Rin shifted nervously under his gaze, breaking eye contact to look at the sheet of paper in their off-white claws. “Actually, sir, this appeared in the mailbox a few minutes ago.” They raised the paper, not quite offering it to their boss. “It seems to be addressed to you, though I can’t be sure.”

Alador considered the paper. It was a wanted poster, one he was all too familiar with. He cocked his head curiously when he saw something written on the back. “Why is that?”

The imp tensed their feathered wings. “Sir?” A cloud of cold mist escaped with the word. Why are they nervous? Demons are so emotional.

“Why does it ‘seem’ addressed to me?” He clarified, this time making sure to sound less imposing. He was not happy with the distraction, but he wouldn’t make it a personal issue against the poor kid.

“Well, it’s… not quite clear, and I know it’s not my place to say it, but… no; it’s better that you see for yourself, sir.” They said, finally extending their arm and placing the poster neatly on the table. Alador took it immediately, not wanting to waste any more time than necessary in this diversion.

He froze when he saw what was in it.

Her handwriting was still as pristine as ever. He blinked once, twice, just to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the light. The blood in his veins boiled and froze simultaneously, his mind reeling with the implications. And if the mere sight of the familiar cursive didn’t knock the air out of him, the actual content of the note certainly did.

_We have much to discuss. Meet me at the top of the world._

_P.S.: Tell your sketch artist he's drawn my hair wrong._

Alador knew exactly what it meant. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat that signified he’d lost the reins of his emotions. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes, firmly pushing all his frantic thoughts back down to be dealt with when he had the time.

At the sound of a throat being cleared, his eyes snapped back open. He hadn’t dismissed his assistant. “Should I alert the precinct, sir?”

He swiftly corrected his posture. “Who else saw this?” he inquired -- and failed to completely contain his nerves, judging by the way the imp seemingly shrunk a whole foot at the sound of his voice.

“S-s-sir, I was th-the only one who--”

“Incorrect. You didn’t see this.” He said, simply, and then gave the kid a very pointed look. “Am I clear?”

Rin blinked, brows raising in understanding. “... See what, sir?”

That amused him slightly. “You’re dismissed. Close the door when you leave. And Rin?” The imp paused. “Let them know I don’t want any more interruptions.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once alone, Alador allowed himself to lose his composure just a little. Later he’d have to provide the department with an excuse to give to his wife when she called eventually, but for now he’d just let his mind wander.

\-------

He hadn't done much in his office that afternoon, but he hadn’t felt like doing much at all after receiving the note.

Lilith was alive. That was the most important takeaway from it. She was alive and felt safe enough to send him a message, safe enough to want to meet him. Back in his office, he hadn't been able to contain his relief. He must have looked utterly foolish, with that toothy smile he could still feel ghosting the edges of his mouth as he pushed himself up the beaten path of the hill, moonlight barely cresting the horizon and framing the whole scene in silky silver. He’d chosen to walk this night, using his trusty flying wolf palisman as a walking cane and the time of the journey to get his thoughts in order.

He was more conscious of his inappropriate eagerness to see Lilith again than he was of the fact that he was about to meet with the criminal he’d been hunting down for two months.

Since the Castle incident, he’d only seen Lilith’s face in their wanted posters. He'd crossed paths with the Owl Lady (oh, Edalyn. Such potential, gone to waste in the wild…) and that odd human of hers, wreaking havoc in town and making fools of him and his subordinates time and again, almost as if she hadn’t been almost petrified by the Emperor Himself merely two months ago. Lilith, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. Various search missions, countless interrogations of eye witnesses, weeks of following breadcrumbs to nowhere, coming back empty-handed every night.

At first, a part of him had feared the worst. She’d been gone, last seen being carried by the Owl Lady as she flew out into the wild, and he couldn’t help but worry that Eda had learned the truth and done the unthinkable. His wife had noticed his unrest, because of course she had; but he hadn't lied when he'd said (in carefully chosen words) that there was much work to be done and that his mind wouldn't give him respite. And he knew he shouldn’t be falling apart like that, it was a shameful weakness of his; it merely was that he’d long stopped fighting the leash that tied his mind to the thought of his childhood best friend like a dire dog to its owner.

But tonight, he knew Lilith was alive. She was alive, she was being hunted by the Emperor’s forces, by his forces, and she wanted to meet him where they'd once shared a kiss.

Their only kiss.

Alador isn't one for regrets; to regret is to admit weakness. His life had been planned out for him the moment he was born. He'd accepted that truth long, long ago, and lived with all the responsibilities it brought to him. Never once failing to live up to them, never once wanting to question them. That didn't mean he wouldn't be frustrated with what they asked of him sometimes.

By the time he got to the hilltop, he'd lost both his smile and his breath. Just a reminder that he should probably retire soon, he considered as he rubbed his aching knees. At least the hill was relatively isolated, and his image of the stoic leader of the local division of the Emperor’s Coven would remain untainted so long as he could still chase down the occasional wild witch.

He walked over to the other side of the hilltop, where a sheer cliff overlooked the city of Bonesborough below; warm oranges and yellows of Light spells slowly blinked in and out of existence like fireflies under the now purple light of a proper full moon. The view was just as breathtaking as he remembered it. He sat down on the grass and gently laid his staff by his side.

After a few moments, Alador heard the sound of a very small pair of wings settle a few feet away to his side. He turned to see a tiny white raven looking straight at him. He smiled.

“Good evening, Jacob.” He greeted the familiar palisman. “Is your owner here?”

“Alone?” 

Alador raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Ah. I forgot you can do that.” Few witches were skilled enough to gift their palismans with the ability to mimic witch speech; it was a useful ability, if a tad disconcerting, but he took it as proof of Lilith’s capabilities.

“Alone?” The bird repeated, inquisitive.

“Yes,” Alador replied. “I have come alone. You can check if you’d like.”

“He already did,” the voice said from behind him -- and he was glad he was sitting down, otherwise he would've jumped out of his own skin. “I admit, I wasn't sure if you'd come.” He turned his head around, hoping to use his best ‘offended authority’ face, but that thought got immediately sidetracked by the sight of her.

He'd found it hard, before, to reconcile the lady of slicked ebony hair and dark clothes he'd often seen in his business trips to the Emperor's castle with the image of the young, wild-haired girl with the roundest glasses in school. But the person standing before him -- back straight, nervous smile, the staff of her palisman held close to her chest like a shield -- was somehow both and neither; the white cloak of the Emperor still hung on her back, though underneath it was a much more practical outfit than that stuffy old dress of hers: a simple dark dress shirt and darker pants that fit her nicely, with boots to match. Her curly hair was bouncing in the breeze ( _Curly!_ He thought. _Still black._ ) and there was a new pair of glasses framing her face. Not round like before, but a more subdued model. Under the purple moonlight she looked decades younger, yet just as grown as he’d last seen her. It was…

Bewitching.

“I should be arresting you right now.” He started, not entirely convinced of it himself. He secretly hoped she hadn't noticed the red he could feel across his cheeks.

Lilith shook her head with a smile, as if it was a joke. “Darling, take the mask off. It’s just us.”

And he did, because she was alive, and she was there, and he could only smile back at her. “I didn’t hear you arrive. Were you always this furtive, Ms. Clawthorne?” 

Her soft smile grew into a smirk, that dangerous smirk that roused the hairs on his nape and the corners of his mouth. “I can't help it. I'm a snake.” She was. He knew that. She could strike swift and silent and he’d be helpless.

“I'd peg you for a phantom at this point.” She sat down to his right, close enough that he could feel her heat. He watched as Jacob quietly nestled himself on her shoulder. “You dropped off the Titan’s corpse. I searched for you high and low, but you were nowhere; what happened?”

“It comes with the territory of being an outlaw, Chief Blight.” She teased.

“Not an excuse. I’ve crossed paths with your sister quite a few times recently.”

“She’s always been a little more of a show-off than me.” He filed the sad look in her eyes to dissect on a sleepless night. “How are the children, by the way?”

Alador scoffed. “You did not call me all the way up here to catch up.”

“Just entertain me for a moment, Alador.” The melancholy was more apparent in her voice. He noticed she was avoiding his gaze. “Your Amity was my best apprentice, and I miss her an awful lot.”

It was a thought that had crossed his mind before, Lilith with his children. He felt a small comfort at her statement; the twins may have made a lost cause of themselves, but at least he’d done well with his youngest. “Not much has changed.” Gazing down at the city before them, he recalled a recent interaction with the child, just now considering a detail of the exchange. “Though the youngest seems disturbed by the human’s presence in Hexside.”

He heard her chuckle for just a second. “Yes, well. I can’t do much about that, I’m afraid.” She said something else under her breath he couldn’t quite catch.

“You can do one thing, Clawthorne,” he said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye and seeing her bite her lower lip. He managed to stop himself from biting his own; he wasn’t a teenager, for crying out loud. “You can explain to me why you’re making small talk with the chief of the Bonesborough wing of the Emperor’s Coven.”

She took a sharp breath and sighed heavily. Alador wasn't one for regrets, but watching her deflate like that made him wish he'd waited just a few more minutes before inquiring. When she spoke again, it was like she was fighting to let the words out.

“I… I am here to ask something of you. Something utterly absurd. You will probably think I've finally gone mad, or that I'm being forced to do this, and I assure you neither is true. But before you decide that I'm wasting your time…” She shifted so she could look straight at him, finally showing him what she'd been hiding: a very prominent stripe of grey hair across the right side of her head. “... I believe you're owed an explanation first.”

Alador barely registered that last sentence, transfixed by the revelation. It wasn't there two months ago, he would've seen it. He absentmindedly brought a hand to her cheek and froze when she flinched, only proceeding when she leaned into his touch. He tilted her head slightly to get a better look. When his eyes finally met hers, he saw the grey in one of them clearly, even under the lavender glow of the moon, like whatever was causing the discrepancy extinguished every colour that touched it. Ice ran through his veins as he realised what it meant.

“Lilith--” he paused, mildly startled by how disturbed he sounded. “Please tell me this isn't…”

Lilith broke eye contact again, and that was all the confirmation he needed.

Had it been anybody else, he’d be laughing at the irony of it. But it was Lilith, _his_ Lilith, and now he was running his hand through his hair, trying to cling to reason before it abandoned him altogether. He remembered an evening almost thirty years ago; him holding an unraveling Lilith still in her recently earned Emperor's Coven robes, breaking into sobs while clinging to him and saying barely coherent things about ruining her sister, how Eda would never forgive her, how it was all her fault and other nonsense about a curse that he knew wasn't nonsense at all, because he knew her too well. It haunted him, the knowledge of what Lilith was capable of.

Not knowing what to say, he simply asked, “Tell me.”

It took her a second to work up the strength.

“Where do I even begin?” She whispered, gently caressing her raven with a finger. “I always thought I was a monster, I suppose; though it had never been clearer than that evening at the Castle, two months ago…”

She didn’t tell him everything. She told him some of what had happened then: that her duty to capture Edalyn had been layered with threats of excommunication (and a death sentence, a detail he tried not to dwell on) by the Emperor Himself; that, in order to get Edalyn’s attention, she’d taken captive her human apprentice; that she’d done unspeakable things in their last fight just to wear her sister down (and somewhere in that time she’d told Eda the truth about the curse); that she’d been so stupid to believe Edalyn’s fate under the Emperor would be anything but death, but she could not allow that to happen; that after escaping with her sister that night, she’d made a promise to herself to right her countless wrongs, the first of which being Edalyn’s curse -- now their curse, as she explained.

She also told him some of what she’d been up to since: one of her current missions was finding a way to recreate a specific magical phenomenon. She’d searched tirelessly throughout the Isles for both information and traces of it while Edalyn and her human were doing other things, but she’d recently found an obstacle in her solo research, mainly that there was very little she could do without her innate magic abilities.

Alador didn't know what to make of any of this. Lilith had fallen from grace so fast. One day she'd been working in the Emperor's chambers, and on the next she was a renegade, a traitor to the state with no name, no credentials and no magic, for the crime of caring about her wayward sister. From what he could infer, she'd been living as a wild witch the entire time she'd been gone. It was pitiful. He felt like he should pity her.

And yet.

He had seen Lilith’s regret. She’d regretted for so long, it had become her default state. Yet as she told him all of this, he looked into her eyes for that ever-present fog of melancholy, the weakness she showed between brief greetings and brushes of hands whenever they passed each other in the Castle’s hallways… and found instead an unknowable glint; something new, or perhaps something reborn. Determination? Ambition? Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t that weakness -- and it didn’t deserve his pity. It's just the way of the Isles: some witches belong at the top, others thrive at the bottom.

It was why they were never meant to be.

“That was… quite a tale,” he said after a moment of silence he needed to collect his thoughts. He found himself feeling uneasy about what came next. “As I've said, however, I believe you did not call me here just to reconnect.”

“I didn't. I wish it was just that.” She sighed and nestled her head onto his shoulder. He tried not to think of how well she fit there. “This relates to what I've been working on. Back when I… before this all happened, we were preparing for the Day of Unity.” Alador didn’t recognise the name. “I've heard rumours that He's continuing His plans despite being disrupted by my sister and her apprentice that day. Word is out that He has something he took from Eda -- the thing I've been looking for, that I've been trying to recreate. If that’s true, there is much at stake.”

“Is--”

“It’s not a weapon, if that’s what you’re wondering. I can’t say much about it, or I would risk compromising us all.” That bothered him more than he wished it would. They couldn’t trust each other, they shouldn’t trust each other, and she understood that; a part of him resented her for it. “I need someone to verify that information for me.”

Alador blinked. “Verify… information.”

“It's not as simple as it sounds. The Day of Unity is a highly classified project; I myself only know a few things about it. Besides, being involved with me might get you in hot water with the Emperor, and I don't have the right to ask that of you,” she said, reluctantly pulling away from him; “especially not with your family in the picture.”

He bit back another scoff. He didn't want to think about his family, but she always made a point to mention them. Did she mean to remind him of his place? Well, two could play that game. “So if I understand this correctly, Ms. Clawthorne,” he said with his best commissioner voice, “you, a known traitor and wanted criminal, want me to get involved in what very much looks like terrorist activity; you approach me with the task to smuggle highly classified information from right under the Emperor's gaze,” he finally looked at Lilith, who was shrinking into her shoulders like a child being scolded; “and you do it while in the same breath acknowledging that it would not only put at risk myself, but also my wife and children.”

Lilith grimaced. “It sounds far worse when you say it like that.”

An image was starting to form in his mind, foggy as it was, and he already didn't like it. “What will you do if whatever you’re looking for truly is there?”

Lilith broke eye contact yet again. Titan, how many times must she break his heart tonight?

“You're going to steal it,” he said, simply. She didn't deny it. “You're going to attempt to enter the Emperor's Castle and steal whatever it is from there.” More silence. Alador huffed. “And you're asking a commander in office to help you with it.”

“I know it's absurd--”

“Absurd?” He raised his hands incredulously. “Absurd doesn't begin to describe it! Lilith, what in the world are you trying to do?”

She laughed joylessly. “A good thing, for once.”

Alador rubbed his nose bridge, because she was still the shortsighted girl who rushed into disaster like a blind griffin. “Let me spell this out for you, Clawthorne: I am a high member of the Emperor's Coven. You are an outlaw with an outrageous price on your head. You’ve been in my place before, surely you can see the ridiculousness of this situation?” He tried to contain the growing frustration in his own voice. “Never mind asking me to commit treason on your behalf; why did you show yourself to me at all?! What if I had brought my task force along? What if I'd come to arrest you?” He paused before landing the final blow, one last effort to make her see how reckless she was being. “What will you do if I walk down that path with the decision to report this to the Emperor?”

Despite the threat, as she locked eyes with him again, the smile on her lips was sincere. “That won't happen.”

It was barely a whisper, said with such earnest conviction that he threatened to crumble. “How do you know that?” he asked, anguish replacing all indignation in his voice.

“Because it's you.” She took his hand in hers, and he couldn't contain a gasp. “And it's us. What we have is precious, Al. Try as you may, you can't convince me that you're indifferent to it.” she brushed her thumb on the back of his hand, setting it on fire. “Not to the point where you'd send me to my death.”

He felt himself tear in two. She did trust him, it turns out; against all reason, just like he trusted her. It took all of his strength not to pull her in and kiss her once, twice, a million times -- maybe to make her forget this ridiculous idea of stealing something from the Emperor, maybe to make up for all the years he'd pulled her away for the sake of his image, his family name, the legacy he worked so hard to build and maintain. But he shouldn’t, and he didn’t. It was torture.

“Lily,” he whimpered, all pretense and composure gone. “If you go into that Castle, you'll die.”

“Perhaps,” she admitted, which was almost worse. “But I still have to try.”

“Why?”

“A child needs to go home.”

It was the not same brand of cryptic he was used to hearing from her; saying vague words of caution or simple suggestions was their own way of telling each other ‘I love you’ without anyone else knowing, but this he didn’t understand. Blinking away frustrated, frustrating tears, he found himself at a loss for what to do.

“Look,” Lilith interrupted his thoughts. She was looking at the view of Bonesborough again, a serene smile on her face. He followed her gaze. “I'll understand it if you won't do this; there's too much at stake for you. I just needed to take this chance and ask you anyway, otherwise Edalyn would just run in blind and get herself caught.”

Alador thought about Edalyn and how much Lilith loved her, despite how much hurt that love brought unto both of them. He thought of his own family, of going home to three-course meals and dull conversations about other families and their equally dull lives. He remembered having to break his children’s hearts a few times, for their own good, and wondered if perhaps love isn't a curse onto itself, a demon feasting on the suffering that witches inflict on each other through their bonds and chains.

Before and below them, Bonesborough shimmered in purple moonlight and gold specks. Alador couldn't see his office, and the Blight Estate was obscured by one of the Titan's ribs. It all seemed so irrelevant from this distance, though he knew he'd have to come back down soon; he found himself not wanting to come down. He closed his eyes and weighed the options: helping Lilith and risking his life along with everything he had, or walking away from this mess and letting the love of his life doom herself on an impossible quest for redemption.

Alador sighed. This would’ve been an easier choice to a better person. “If I die, it's your fault.”

He felt the tug on his hand from how quickly Lilith turned her head. “Are you…?”

He cleared his throat, choosing not to meet her eyes. “This is so that you won't kill yourself by being too reckless. I'd hate to-- w-what is this??” Lilith suddenly had her arms wrapped around him in a very disconcerting way. He felt his face grow embarrassingly hot. “Lilith, f-for the love of… let me go! What are you doing?!”

“I learned this one recently. It's called a hug; try it on your kids some time.”

“Oh Titan, I'm already regretting this decision.”

Lilith snorted. “Alador Blight does not regret.” He laughed, because she knew him too well. She let go of him to catch a yawn, and he allowed himself to miss her touch. “Well, it’s getting late. We should part ways before something sees us.”

Alador checked the moon -- it was about to peak. Being seen wasn’t really what concerned him at this point; he’d missed dinner, and his wife would certainly be waiting to be accusingly silent at him when he got home. Wordlessly, he picked up his palisman and used it to prop himself up, a few joints cracking back into place. He really was getting old. “Here, let me help you up.” He offered her a hand. She took it.

“A gentleman as always.” While not inaccurate, he just wanted to feel her one last time. With an awkward pull, they were both standing, hands intertwined, painfully close; he could see some wrinkles forming on the sides of her eyes, the faint blush across her cheeks, the even fainter smile at the corners of her lips. So long had passed and she was still just as alluring as ever. It was impossibly tempting to simply lean in and--

“CAW!” The white raven called from Lilith’s shoulder, making them both flinch. 

“Jacob! Ouch, that was too loud!” she scolded. Alador took that as a cue and took a few quick steps back. Jacob seemed amused at finally having attention, pecking at Lilith’s ear. “No. Bad Jacob. Go get your pole.” With a humorous trill, the bird palisman swooped down to where Lilith had been sitting, grabbed the staff with a claw and brought it back to her, before taking his place on it and falling into stasis. Alador and Lilith exchanged a silent look…

… and then fell into laughter. This entire night had been a surreal experience, and in the end there was nothing else to do but find some levity in it.

“He’s still a little rascal, I see.” Alador said after the laughter died down.

“He is.” She looked toward somewhere in the woods, past the city. “I really should go, though. I don’t want to deal with a certain house demon unattended.”

Alador blinked. “I don’t follow.”

“Be glad you don’t.” She climbed onto her staff. Alador suddenly remembered something important.

“Wait, how can I find you again?” Lilith turned her head, seemingly caught off-guard. “You’ll need to fetch your information at some point.”

She gave him that dangerous smirk that roused the hairs on his nape and the corners of his mouth. “Don’t worry, darling; I’ll know when to call you.”

When she lifted off the ground to leave, he couldn’t contain himself. “Lily?” he called once more, and she turned once more. “Don’t die,” he said, and he knew that she knew what he meant.

“Say hi to Amity for me.”

And then she was gone, and he was alone with his thoughts again.

If he would be honest with himself, there was a not insignificant chance that Lilith was simply using him. He was very aware of that. But tonight he was tired of his own cynicism and felt selfish enough to indulge in the thought of satisf-- of making Lilith happy out of the goodness of his heart. It was a sweet illusion, he admitted as he finally climbed on his own staff and lifted off into the night sky.

Later, when he’d be in bed and struggling to sleep as usual, the reality of him agreeing to help a traitor commit grand theft in the Emperor’s castle would come crashing down on him like a wave of boiling seawater.

For now, he felt the warmth of Lilith’s hand linger on his own and didn’t regret a thing, because Alador Blight wasn’t one for regrets.

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna write an epilogue with him getting home and dealing with Odalia, but I just really dislike writing loveless relationships. I don't think he's as disillusioned with his family as I've written here (in fact, I'd really like if the Blight Parents were two horrible people eternally stuck in honeymoon mode because Evil People In Love is a bangin' trope), but for the sake of making this oneshot work I temporarily adopted this headcanon.
> 
> Also I hope to The Creator Above that I've conveyed Alador's terrible personality through his limited perspective. We all agree that he's awful, don't we? Good.


End file.
